


Nanotober Day 5

by ErinPenwrite



Series: Nanotober 2019 [5]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Ed is raped by a machine being manned by some guy, Fucking Machines, Heed the archive warning, Humiliation, M/M, To clarify, mind breaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 10:46:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21034994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErinPenwrite/pseuds/ErinPenwrite
Summary: "Gunpoint" "Fucking Machine"





	Nanotober Day 5

**Author's Note:**

> I...
> 
> I think I broke my filter, and this is the result.
> 
> Enjoy my trash

There wasn't much Ed could do about the barrel in his face. The man wielding the gun had at least two feet on him, and while that wasn't usually something to deter him from action, the meaty finger on the trigger was, and any little jostle would cause a bullet to fire.

The guy's cronies caught him by the arms. The evening fog had already rolled in, so he couldn't tell how many of them there were, but he knew he was out manned, regardless of his own skill at fending off crowds. A bag dropped over his head, and it was all a mute point. He was at their mercy.

But only until he found the right opportunity.

They loaded him into the back of a car, tying his arms behind his back. His senses of direction and time were gone. He tried to focus on turns and was hoping these goons might reveal something in idle talk, but they were silent the whole way there. Wherever "there" was.

The car came to a halt, and the big guy with the gun barked some orders. "Take this guy to the Observatory. The rest of yous go spread the news. I got some business with the boss."

Ed wanted to groan and roll his eyes, but he didn't exactly want a kick to the gut. And the eye rolling bit would be totally lost anyway, what with the bag and all. He let himself be picked up again, this time slung over some meathead's shoulder.

There was no keeping track of where he was, so he put his thoughts on how he might get out of this. He was going to an "Observatory." There would have to be a reason why there and not a cell of some kind. Then again, the idea also made him nervous. He's been looking into an alchemist who specialized in creating guard dog chimeras and other monsters.

It was like a scene out of those cheesy movies. The only thing lacking was for these losers to have bad Aerugean accents and fedoras. Maybe his rogue alchemist would have a tattered white labcoat and crazy glasses? That would at least make this venture entertaining. Else wise, this was proving to be yet another lesson in why he needed a partner when he went on these missions. At least he'd had the brains to tell Mustang where he was going.

The guy transporting him dropped him like a sack of potatoes. He clenched his teeth, holding back a grunt of pain, landing hard on his side. The telling click of another gun clinked nearby and he held his breath.

"You're gonna stay right there until the boss gets here," the guy grunted. "And I'll tell ya this, if you don't tell 'em what he wants to know, you'll regret it. I can guarantee you of that."

Ugh, so cheesy it hurt. He'd at least have to say something. Maybe get some intell off this meat head. "What does he want to know from me?"

"I couldn't tell you even if I wanted to, but I've seen what he does to guys like you who come snooping around."

Real helpful. He kept his breathing under control, his heart rate as low as he could manage. He had to think clearly if he was going to get through this. He'd have to come up with a plausible lie and make them fight to get that from him.

He put a tremor in his voice, "Wha'do they do?" Let the guy think he's scared. And really, what could they do that was worse than anything he'd put himself through? Torture like what these bozos could dish out had nothing on getting two limbs removed. Pain was an old friend.

He heard the guy step closer, could smell the guy's breath when he leaned down to mutter, "They'll hook ya up ta the machine. Ain't no one who's been able to keep quiet after that, so it'd do ya good if ya just tell him everything straight up."

Ed grinned, happy it couldn't be seen. A machine? Good. Give him and his trusty left foot a minute, and that machine wouldn't be an issue. 

He just needed to suss out what these guys wanted to know so he could make up a lie.

The meathead backed off, and he let his head hang. He tested his bonds. He could stand and run, and, if the need arose, he could twist out of the ropes tying his hands together.

It didn't take much longer before the sound of steps approached. There was three... maybe four of them?

"Edward Elric, I presume?" said a cool voice.

"Who's asking?"

"Bold of you to ask. I'm the boss, and that's really all you need to know."

A hand came to Ed's throat, pressing on either side with the bite of nails.

"There are certain key pieces of information that you will tell me. Do not test me."

He gulped, but it was for show. This guy was a joke, if his grip was anything to go by. This was nothing but a shitty power play.

"Who knows where you went this evening?"

The grip on his throat laxed. He let out a breath, thinking of a safe lie. "My CO knew I was attempting a mission, but I didn't tell anyone where I was going."

"Is that so?" There was a pause, a hushed whisper that he couldn't quite make out, and then a whoosh before being socked in the jaw. "My informants tell me otherwise, Major. Let's try that again. Who knows where you went this evening?"

He tasted the coppery twang of blood seeping out onto his tongue, but his teeth didn't seem the worse for wear. "There's a chance I was tailed, but I don't have a partner."

"See, now was that so hard?" the boss crooned. "Now, let's get to the fun questions. What were you investigating before we caught you?"

"Shouldn't you already know?" Shit, he shouldn't have said that.

Another smack on to the jaw, and the drops of blood became more like a trickle. "Don't get cute."

He stalled, thinking of something while he feigned catching his breath. He had to let them think their precious monster maker was under the radar. "Slave trade," he gasped, trying not to ham it up too much. Let them think he couldn't take the abuse. "I was looking into rumors we'd heard about a group of Xingese women being sold to the Drachman mafia."

"Seems a little below your rank. Isn't that the work of the MP's?"

Well, two sucker punches and a rush of adrenaline made any story he was going to craft a little thin. He just needed to keep things simple. "Supposedly, one of them is the sister of some dignitary." Ugh, that wasn't simple!

"Well, isn't that fascinating. I happen to have a mole with the Drachmans." Aside, the boss barked, "You. Look into this. Be quick."

A set of footsteps went running. Well, there went his plan to lead them off his tracks. He didn't doubt that it wouldn't take long before his lie was discovered, and then he'd have to come up with another.

And he'd not even found out anything about the alchemist, either. That had to be the worst part of it. He'd been caught right when he was on the brink of finding something, too! Yeah, a cautionary tale about needing a partner, indeed.

"Moving on, let's see what else you can tell us, Elric."

He straightened where he sat, putting on a front. He had to act the part of a scared man putting on a brave front. These idiots could do some damage, but nothing that actually scared him. In that regard, he admitted to himself that he might have been treating them carelessly.

"What dirt do you have on General Roy Mustang?"

Just gonna come out right with the big guns, huh? He laughed, "You expect me to rag on him? Surely you read a paper during Ishbal. All your dirt's right there!"

"I'll give you one more chance to reconsider. Tell me, Elric, what is it that got you into the military? Was it that he pressured you into sexual favors, or did you get on your knees all by yourself?"

The guy was trying to bait him. He clenched his teeth. Fucking assholes always assumed that, and he was sick of the whispers. But this wasn't the time or place. At least he knew the kind of shit they wanted. They wanted dirt on good folk? Fine. He'd lead then on a wild goose chase.

"He..." he bowed his head, choking his words to get a better effect.

"Oh? Hit the nail on the head, did I?"

"He's a puppet," he said. "There's another guy using him as a front." This lie was even thinner than the other, but he didn't think they could fact check if they were asking for info from him.

"What's this pupputeer's name?"

Shit. Who'd be someone they would believe? Well, a spark of truth in every lie. "Greed. The guy goes by Greed. He went underground after the Eclipse. Faked his death."

"Greed?" The boss laughed. "I haven't heard that name in a good long time. Thought the guy was still playing it safe after his place down south got raided. Good to know he's still around."

"How do you know him?" How did this goon know Greed? How did he not know that Greed died twice over?

"Oh, we go way back. The bigger question is what's his angle? What's he playing at? Power? Money?"

Ed chuckled, thinking back on his friend. "Everything."

"Sounds like him." The boss snapped his fingers, and the bag was ripped off Ed's head.

Ed took in the fresh air, finally able to take a deep breath. Then he got a look at this boss fellow.

A human chimera. One of the grunts he'd seen at the Devil's Nest all those years ago.

Damn.

"See, I know by the look in your eye," the boss said, "that you know that I know that you've been feeding me lies this whole time." The chimera leaned in close, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Don't think I didn't recognize you, either. Cuz, as soon as they described you when they brought you in here, I knew who you were. You were the brat there at that raid wearing a State issued watch."

No wonder this guy was getting into the chimera market. This guy must have known which alchemists had done the work. Was that alchemist a captive as well? Would that guy know anything about the secrets of the old regime they'd been unable to uncover? Shit, this was the exact lead he needed, and if he didn't figure out a way out of this, then the whole thing would disappear in a puff of smoke!

"Y'see, not many of us made it outta there. Those of us who did had to lay low for a while. And you are trying to tell me that Greed is still alive and kicking somewhere after all that and didn't seek us out?" The boss shook his head with a disapproving smile. "You're gonna have to do better than that, Major."

Well, fuck. He snickered at himself. He was well and truly fucked. His snickers grew to chuckles, and then full blown laughter. He caught the men around the room staring at him like he'd gone insane, and maybe he had, but the boss was laughing with him.

He headbutted the boss, knocking the chimera flat on his ass.

"You little brat!" the boss snarled. "Fuck it. I try to be courteous..." He stood and dabbed at the bloodied wound on his forehead. "Hook him up. He'll be tonight's entertainment. Maybe after that, he'll wanna talk!"

The clatter of guns being cocked silenced Ed quicker than the threat of that machine. The last thing he wanted was to be taken out by something as mundane as a bullet. And, he wasn't being killed outright. Nor were operations being evacuated, so that had to be a good sign. Right?

That left the two goons crowding him and pawing at his clothes. "The hell are you doing!?"

"You can work with us or not, but either way, you're getting hooked up."

He stood on his own, glaring, but presenting himself to them. They untied his wrists and stripped him bare. He had to fight the urge not to fight back, but he wasn't in range to knock guns out of hands, and there were just too damn many of them.

The chimera must have remembered him pretty damn well, if the security was anything to go by. He was ushered into the next room, and he saw the machine. It was a series of pistons and moving arms, and he found himself a bit more nervous. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but he did not like the look of things as they were.

One of the goons dumped a bucket of petroleum jelly into a receiver. Nope. He knew for a fact he wanted nothing to do with this. He glanced around, taking in the room. No windows, but two exits. The one he'd entered by and one on the far side. Not all the gunmen had followed, which meant there were more back the way he'd come. Well, then, the only way to go was forward, and if he was in his birthday suit, then that was just the way things had to be.

He made a run for the nearest gunman, knocking the pistol from his hand and throwing him. He took a knee, grabbing for the gun before a shot next to his hand made him recoil. He looked to where it had come and saw a line of barrels pointed right at his head.

"Fine! You win!" He rose his hands in surrender, and a crony came up behind him to lead him back over to the machine.

"Take a seat, Mr. Elric," the crony said cordially.

He looked at where he was expected to sit. Nothing but a regular table, positioned though it was in front of the machine. Okay. So he did.

"I'll have to strap you in for this," the guy explained. "You'll be good for me, now, right?"

He glanced at the veritable firing squad and back at this creep leering at him. He nodded once.

"Oh, good. Just put your arms out like this," the guy demonstrated in a cheery tone, and Ed followed orders robotically. "Excellent, now hold still."

Ed stifled his rage. Damnit. If he'd just been more careful back at that fucking warehouse, then he wouldn't be in this mess. He had a sick feeling on where all this was going, and the name "The Observatory" made a bit more sense. He was the showcase of some sick underground circus of freaks.

His hands were bound to reinforced arms suspended above the machine. The arms rose with a whirr, and his weight was off the table as he was held aloft by his arms. Annoying, but nothing terrible.

"I'm afraid, Mr. Elric, that I'll be in need of something from you." The crony smiled and reached for his automail.

"No. No no no!" Ed thrashed, uselessly trying to kick, but another guy held his legs while the first reached up and unfastened his automail limb. "God damnit! Don't you fucking dare hock that, or I'll-"

"You'll what?" The second guy smirked. "Bite our ankles?"

Fucking short jokes. Fucking cripple jokes. Fuck these bastards. Fuck this mission. Fuck the whole fucking thing, he shoulda just retired to the country! Fuck!

He settled for growling, which at least earned him a nervous look from the second guy. The first was not to be dissuaded. A cuff went around his flesh ankle, two more around his thighs, and a band around his waist. These where attached to different arms of the machine.

Really, the contraption would have been interesting to witness if he weren't about to be put through it's ministrations. He took a minute to consider it. He'd be getting to know it well in short order, so he figured that was his right, and no one stopped him.

It was two devices in one. The first raised and lowered him, able to move him all about. He hung suspended as though he were laying down on his back, his legs spread wide. He tried not to think about just how exposed he was. The second part were the pistons. There was a row of them, each one topped with a smooth phallus and each one progressively larger than the one before. An opening at the tip of each leaked drops of the vaseline he'd seen being fed into the machine as he'd been escorted in, and that was something he was suddenly grateful for.

But that largest one on the end... Fuck, he hoped he was out of it for that one. That was some kind of twisted big finale for the gross ass fuckers who came to watch. Had to be. Hell, he was going to be lucky to come out of this sane.

Why the hell was he so calm? Shouldn't he be freaking out? The glint of shine from a gun across the room brought him back to the moment. Right. He didn't want to die in a place like this.

The crony interrupted his thoughts. "I do so appologize for this. It's a tad inappropriate of me, but it's part of the experience!"

Ed looked down at the guy who was wrapping an elastic band around the base of his cock. He cringed at the guy's clammy hands on him, but it was done before he could do anything about it.

"Okay. You're all ready for the show, Mr. Elric." The crony grinned, "Go ahead and roll him out for me."

Ed checked himself before he snarled. It wouldn't be good if he got his blood going. He closed his eyes, feeling the machine being rolled across the floor. He pictured himself away from that place. He thought of Resembool. Of his time traveling Creta. Of the long train rides across boundless Drachma. He wouldn't break from this. He'd give some weirdos a show, then he'd get outta there.

When he opened his eyes again, he was in the center of an underground arena. The audience was shrouded at the edge of the light, and the stage was small, almost intimate with how close the people seemed to be. He blinked against the spot lights as they were pointed at him. Some dude in a fancy suit was talking about "A treat for you folks tonight," and he wanted to hurl.

Who's fucked up idea was this? Who would even build something like this, much less show off demonstrations to a bunch of fucking people? For that matter, what kind of person did it take to want to see something like this? He clenched his jaw, the residual taste of blood bringing things into focus. He needed to relax.

"And without further ado, let's begin!"

Ed felt the machine whirr to life. He was lowered toward the first piston, positioned so that he wouldn't have anywhere to go, so that he didn't have any choice but to let it...

It pressed on his hole, and bile rose to his throat. It pulled back and pushed again, breaching inside. He forced his breath to stay even. That was all it could possibly do. It was a simple machine in concept, after all. All it did was go back and forth.

It plunged inside and he hissed.

Simple concept, he reminded himself as the phallus was dragged slowly out of him. He glanced to the side, and there was the crony that had hooked him up. At the controls.

Fuck, this thing was manned. That meant... Damnit, it meant this guy was going to fucking torture him in ways he'd never even-

His hole was filled again, and a gush of lube splattered in his ass. He squirmed, the sensation making him have to concentrate to hold back from spilling his stomach.

Then the machine began in earnest. It thrust in him, spreading the lube as it did. He did his best to ignore it, to center himself and think only of breathing. He remembered Al bringing back those Xingese meditation techniques, suddenly glad he'd been guilted into paying attention.

He didn't realize that any time had passed until was moved to the next phallus in the line. Shit. How many were there? He halfway didn't want to know, but curiosity won out. He saw seven more, not including the one he was being aligned with. Fuck. He was in for a long night, but he'd make it. He just had to-

It stretched him wide and he cringed. When he'd looked before, they hadn't seemed that much bigger, side by side. The only major difference he'd spotted were between the first few in comparison to the last few, but this felt so much bigger!

The crony snickered in delight and Ed shot him a glare before sealing his vision from this nightmare.

It sunk in, and he lost his concentration. The stretch was way too much! He knew it wasn't that big. Hell, it didn't even look as big as a couple fingers, but fuck! He gnashed his teeth, nausea replaced with a pain he'd never experienced.

Another gush inside, and he was starting to sense a pattern. The sadistic bastard controlling this thing wanted him to feel the thing before making things easy on him. Okay. Fine. Now that he understood that, he could prepare himself. With the lube, it wasn't near so bad.

The thing picked up the pace, and the clench of his ass around it loosened as he grew accustomed. He gulped. He'd just have to focus on that instead. It would be over before he knew it.

Except that the crony chuckled. He didn't like the sound of that. He threw a glare at the guy, but he wasn't at the controls. The machine was still thrusting in him, but he was used to it. But where'd the guy go?

A clamp gripped his nipple and he yelped. The crony laughed again, "Curtesy of the donations of one of our lovely sponsors."

The clamp was lined with tiny teeth, and the handle surrounding the spring was gold plated with jewels embedded along the engravings. The fucking thing probably cost more than he could make in half a year! And it had the singular purpose of clamping down on his fucking nipple! He growled, pissed off and in pain and embarrassed more than anything else.

"I'm sure you'll receive other adornments through out the evening," the crony said and went back to the controls. "We're just waiting on someone to pay to see you take something a little bigger."

So that's how this worked. If the audience wanted, he could be kept there indefinitely.

"Ah! And there is my signal. They want to see you go up two. Isn't that so kind of them?"

Fuck no. He'd barely withstood going up one size, and now he was skipping? And it wasn't like it was going to make the process go faster. They'd keep him going until they had their fill, and then he was going to go back to be interrogated. Only, now he knew what the consequences were.

The arms attached to his bonds pulled him away from the second piston, shifting him over to the fourth. As the shaft met his hole, it dribbled lube, the end sliding in unimpeded.

Except it felt like he was going to be ripped in two! It shoved into him slow and merciless, and he felt a cold rush through his veins. His brain felt weightless until the wave passed, and then something felt... good.

No. No, it couldn't feel good! He was being raped by a machine for some rich criminal mother fuckers to jack off to. Nothing about this scenario was in any way good.

But the shaft teased at something inside him, not quite hitting the mark. He was panting, trying to keep some semblance of control over himself.

"Oh, look who is beginning to enjoy himself," he heard the crony say.

Well, it succeeded in being a boner killer. The rush from before fell dead. His head fell back, and he noticed his sight had finally adjusted to the room.

And he noticed a face he recognized. A woman in a violet dress. She'd always seemed to wear that color. How did he know her?

The machine plunged into him hard, and he yanked at his bonds to keep from shouting. It thrust in hard, dragging out slow, but the pattern was one he could predict even if it was distracting.

Who was that woman? He'd seen her... it was in lighting similar to this. A bar, maybe? But, he never really went to bars except...

Except when he would visit the Madam. The woman was Vanessa, Roy's sister! What was she doing here?

The pattern changed, and the crony seemed to be getting moody. Didn't like being ignored, huh? Good. Maybe the audience would treat him with a bit of favor if he could turn them against this jerk, and he'd be able to enact a last ditch effort to get out of this place.

"So, what is it," he muttered low, fighting to keep the thrusts from the machine out of his voice, "you get something outta this, or you just compensating for something?"

"What was that?" the crony snapped. It was the first time Ed had seen his smile crack.

"Well, I mean," Ed let the piston enter him a couple times, as though he had to consider something, "if it weren't for the audience throwing in surprises, this would get pretty boring pretty quick, wouldn't it? And they haven't seemed so inclined to add much to the pot for a minute."

"Boring!?"

Ugh, this guy was a fucking joke. He spotted Vanessa looking at him. He met her eyes and blinked twice.

And she blinked twice back. Thank the fucking stars! If he'd been wrong, he'd be punished for nothing.

He jeered at the crony, "Can't actually let loose? Right? Only you-"

The crony played right into his hand, cranking up the pace of the machine right when he needed to stop talking. He looked back to Vanessa, blinked twice to end the message. She gave him a tiny nod, then went back to her own doings.

Okay. That went well. Now he just had to deal with the angry man at the controls of a torture device. That he'd just provoked on purpose...

Things were not looking to be in his favor.

The crony leered at him, creepy smile back in its place. He didn't like that.

"It would appear that another donation has been received." The guy pulled out a ball gag.

Okay, that wasn't so bad. He could handle being gagged. He couldn't say anything if he was gagged. That being so, he still wouldn't make it easy. He owed this fucker for taking his leg. That was gonna hurt like a bitch later.

The crony came up behind him, and he yanked his head out of the guy's grasp. If the only thing left free was his head, then he'd use it. He bashed it against the guy's temple and recoiled. Ouch. He'd not aimed that one right and ended up clocking himself, too, but the wail from the crony was worth it.

The crony wrapped a strap around his throat, and he realized he'd made a mistake. His head was already swimming, so when it tightened down on his airways, he fell limp.

And the thing pushing inside him met no resistence. It felt incredible! He couldn't remember any experience getting him to stiffen that fast.

Shit. This wasn't supposed to feel good!

A ball wedged between his teeth, and before he could spit it out, a band was latched under his hair.

"Like being choked out, huh?" the crony snickered. "Just think how loud you're gonna moan when you can't shut your mouth. You're going to make us a fortune."

Fuck, had he moaned just then? Damnit. He jerked in his bonds, his growl coming out barely intelligible. Drool dripped out of the corners of his mouth and his face burned.

And the machine shifted him up and over once more. His chest heaved, and he could feel every tooth of the clamp on his nipple. Before it was just annoying, but now it was... it wasn't fair how it egged him on with each breath!

The crony smirked as the machine moved him down the row. Another skip? He glanced down. He'd been on the fourth one, right? And we was being moved to the seventh. God damnit to hell, it was going to be too much! He caught sight of the size of the sixth, and it was already too big.

He squirmed as a splatter of lube burbled over his hole. He felt full with the stuff already, but as it entered, another gush of it swelled his ass. He could feel it dribble out and off his body, making a sick plop against the hard floor.

He really was on display. The whole of the machine was designed to leave nothing hidden and leave nowhere for the poor soul bound to it to hide.

The machine prodded at his ass, and he was about sick of the halfassed teasing of the idiot at the controls. He felt over his limited ranged of motion and found that there was just a tiny amount of give. He could rock back and forth.

He bit down on the gag. These freaks wanted a god damn show? Fine. He'd give it to them, but on his own terms.

He worked about so he swung into the thrusts of the machine. He bulled through the initial pain of the stretch. The thing was big, but now that he could understand the sensation, it was his to command.

The audience grew restless around him, the subtle din becoming a hushed roar. The machine bucked into him, but he could move with it and against it. Each time it approached, he rocked away, glaring daggers at the crony who had once again lost his smile.

The machine jabbed into him, and he clenched down on the gag. Damnit! He knew without having to look that he was hard, and he didn't know what disturbed him more. That people got off on this fucking shit, or that he was starting to feel like he could, too.

He closed his eyes, trying to think of anything. He went through the periodic table front ways and back, and it did nothing but remind him of the different metals that went into the machine fucking him. The thing just kept going, and he couldn't take it! It was rubbing in just the right way. He hadn't even known there was a damn way to rub there to begin with!

The phallus started to vibrate inside him, and he lost all composure. He let his head fall back, tears welling up as he groaned past the gag. His pulse thudded in his ears, and he rode the machine in earnest, wanting to feel it fill him up.

He nearly let himself cry when his body was pulled back to move up in size again. Again, they skipped. He knew he was on the last one. His mind gave him a cruel moment of clarity, reminding himself not to break. Don't let something like this break him. He saw the thing that was about to be thrust inside his ass and sobbed. It had to be as large around as a forearm. It wouldn't fit! He'd be ripped apart!

Another splash of lube, far more than all the times before combined. It was warmed, gooping over his sac and down his cheeks. He shook his head, his words stolen by the gag. He sent a pleading look to the crony, but only received a nasty snicker as a switch was engaged.

The thing pushed against him, nudging his whole body rather than simply sliding inside. Then, his hole relaxed. He felt that cold rush run through his system once more, his body feeding him chemicals to get him through this ordeal. His breaths came in heaves and wails, and it made no difference. He was being speared by this thing.

And it was good.

He let himself devolve to rutting, letting himself be used and moaning in pleasure. He was so full, so completely full. How could he have been missing out on this? And they thought this was torture? 

The elastic staying his climax was a stroke of genius. He could do this all night and still come back for more! He arched his back, using the bonds to undulate his hips. He wanted more. All he could get.

The machine was set to vibrate within him as it pounded away. Ed shrieked as something within his body was triggered and his nerves went alight. A rushing in his ears combated with the rumbling all around him. The machine was so loud, and the crowd, too.

That's right, he was the night's entertainment. He ought to put on a good show.

He bucked into the thrusts of the machine, his ass squeezing down on it and gushes of lube streaming inside. It was so cozy and tight, and he could swear he could feel his belly filling with the stuff. He could just stay here, and he might just ask to if they'd only let him feel this good all the time.

The tightness coiling low within him begged to be set free. He thrashed, riding the piston jacking into him, seeking that release in utter desperation. He needed it. He needed to come!

He was ripped away by the arms of the machine and howled in rage. He was right there, goddamnit! He was so close, and if that fucking crony was doing this to mess with him, he'd tear him limb from fucking limb!

The crony attached something to one of the pistons... and Ed groaned at the sight. The thing was enormous, and he wanted nothing more than to get it rammed inside his ass. The crony reached over to him and tore off the elastic, and he held himself back from spilling right there.

He writhed in anticipation. His mind was focused on pleasure and pleasure alone. He didn't even know how he got there, feeling so much and just enjoying himself, but he craved the climax. He just wanted that enormous play thing to make him reach that high.

The arms shifted him over once more, the head of the thing bumped against him, firm and solid. It made his mouth water, and he drooled around the gag. He relaxed, willing himself to open around this welcome intrusion.

He worked himself against the phallus, undulating his hips, humping the air. His cock was finally free, and he was dancing along the precipice, he just needed that last push!

The machine forced its way inside, and he screamed! He could barely hear past the rushing in his ears, his vision blanking as the machine fucked his ass.

He stiffened as every part of his being lit up, splattering his release over himself. His body let go of all the tension and fell limp within the bonds holding him aloft.

The pounding didn't cease, either. The machine continued to use him, lengthening the sensations of his release. He whimpered as his body encompassed the huge phallus within him, exhaustion trying to overcome him.

But that constant push and pull was addictive. He moaned, the last burning embers of his arousal fueled by the incessant thrusting. He rode the overstimulation, thirsting for more and he didn't care what he had to do to get it.

He clamped down, trying to feel more, but his body was rebelling against his lust. It felt so good, letting himself be used like some commonplace whore.

The machine thrust in and stayed, and he squirmed around it. He groaned. It wasn't moving! It wasn't moving, and he needed it! He glared at the crony who... wasn't there.

"Look at you," the crony unbuckled the band holding the gag in place, "and to think you were reticent to do this. But, now everyone will get to hear you beg."

A shiver ran down Ed's spine. The ball gag removed, he tested his jaw. If he let his head fall back, he could lay eyes on the crony, who smirked at him in smug satisfaction.

"Well? How about it?"

Beg? He wasn't even sure he could formulate a sound outside the realms of wanton moaning, much less words, but the girth within him was a strong motivator. Hell, but he wanted it to move!

"What if I do this, hn?" The crony reached over and turned a knob.

The phallus vibrated in bursts, and Ed found his voice in a shrill, "Please!"

"That's more like it," the crony said with relish and tended to his machine. "Tell us how much you want this, Major."

The piston drew back ever so slightly, and Ed sobbed, "Please make it move!" He tried to manipulate his bonds, to get some kind of sensation. "W-want more! Please plea-"

The piston drew out of him and sunk back in, the shaft still humming. It rubbed against everything, stimulated everything, and tears streamed out of the corners of his eyes.

"Yes!" he gasped, "More, please, more!"

The machine gushed lube within him, that tightness feeling all the better with the giant rod fucking him. He arched his back, wanting it deeper, wanting to be utterly impaled.

He cried in desire, reduced back to moaning. He was getting close again, so fast, and he fought to make it last just a bit longer. He couldn't think beyond sating the will of his body, and it wanted all of this he could get.

He could smell his own sweat, mixed together with the clinical scent of the lube, and it drove him further. Lube squished out of his hole each time the phallus rammed in, and he could feel the drips of it spilling out his ass. He was hyperaware of every inch of his body. The bonds scratched on his skin, approaching a level of pain that delighted him. He missed the gag, missed having something in his mouth. And hell, if he could get that guy to choke him again, he'd let him fuck his throat!

The vibrations sung quicker, the machine pounding his desperate ass harder and faster. There were stars in his vision, his whole body arching as he crested. He wailed, thrashing as the machine continued pushing him over the edge.

He screamed. It was relentless. It wasn't until a second later that he realized he'd been screaming for more, begging, pleading, grovelling, all in an effort to come.

His cock didn't even so much as weep, yet the all consuming wave of release washed through his veins. He rode it, higher than he'd ever been. The machine pushed and kneaded at his hole, flooding it with lube, and he shook with the forces wracking his body.

Static filled his ears, and he sealed his eyes as his vision narrowed into bright white. It was so much, too much, his body went completely rigid. His throat was raw, and he felt his strength begin to wain.

The machine buried within him again, vibrating at a low hum, and it lulled him back down. His limbs fell limp. He cracked open an eye, and the crony was doing something. He was too absorbed in his haze of climax to see what was happening, but he heard the crony loud and clear when he leaned in close.

"We aren't done with you yet, you know," the crony chuckled. "And we have all night to hear you scream."

Ed should have awoken into full alert. He should have been fighting against this, but the solid weight within him, that snug sense of fullness, all of it was still too good. He felt too good. But he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore. His day finally caught up with him.

He felt his cock being gripped, something playing at the tip and, fuck, slipping inside, but he couldn't lift a finger, couldn't fight against it or buck toward it. He felt the machine start up again, picking up the pace, and could hear his own voice sobbing in need, but Ed, at his core, blacked out and succumbed to exhaustion.

**Author's Note:**

> Lemme just step into this trash barrel. It'll make it easier to roll me out to the dumpster with the rest of the garbage.


End file.
